


Who wrote the book on goodbye?

by DepressedCarrot



Category: Borderlands
Genre: Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, Break Up, M/M, Moving In Together, Regret
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-08-29
Updated: 2015-08-29
Packaged: 2018-04-17 20:27:13
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,253
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4680230
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DepressedCarrot/pseuds/DepressedCarrot
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>An AU in which Rhys and Jack go through struggles in their relationship together. </p>
<p>'Jack didn't feel love. Jack didn't feel anything at all.'</p>
            </blockquote>





	Who wrote the book on goodbye?

**Author's Note:**

> Got the idea of this story from a song. 
> 
> The other by Lauv. - https://youtu.be/HNjX6o7t6NU
> 
> Hope you enjoy :)

Jack peers down at the balding carpet by his feet. Only slightly covering the old creaky floorboard. The man with the mismatched eyes sat at the end of the bed, clasping his clammy palms together. Another angry man began to pace in front of him, grabbing whatever bags he could find at the bottom of the half broken wardrobe. The door Jack had snapped off a few weeks ago in a fit of rage leant against the side of the wooden rectangle. 

The apartment was a shithole. Rhys should have never agreed to move in with the man who tore him in half without a moment's notice. This was the last time Rhys would ever try to help someone. 

"I should have never even helped you that night." Rhys huffs through his teeth as he leans downwards and scoops up a dusty duffel bag from the back of the wooden structure.

Jack tilts his head upwards slightly. The stuffy room and lack of alcohol made him feel woozy and confused. Or perhaps it was just the pain and heartbreak of Rhys packing his bags. But Jack shouldn't feel anything at all, Jack didn't feel emotions. The man was a blank page. 

A good year ago Jack had been injecting himself with poison. Slowly throwing alcoholic beverages down his throat repeatedly. Nobody at that bar cared for the man, nobody in the world cared for the man. Not even his daughter who he struggled to provide for. If Rhys hadn't felt like playing the good Samaritan that night, Jack might not have ever made it home alive. 

"Whatcha' doing cupcake?" Jack slurred as he sat half asleep at the bar. Rhys slid onto a seat beside the auburn haired man. 

"I was g-going to offer you a ride home Sir." The younger male stuttered, slowly threading his tie in between his pale bony fingers. With a childhood plagued by an alcoholic family when Rhys saw the man with the perfectly chiselled face sat at the bar he had to intervene.

Jack waited a few moments, staring through the browning liquid to the bottom of the glass. The words bounced their way into his eardrums, taking a long time to finally make contact with his brain. A person willing to help Jack. A rare phenomenon.

"What's in it for you kiddo?" The older man strokes his thumb against the cold glass containing the liver damaging concoction. Slowly bringing his chin to his shoulder, getting a better look at the Samaritan. 

Rhys let out a little chuckle, looking downwards and smiling he scratched the back of his neck. The answer was quite ridiculous to him. 

"To say I helped stop someone get into the same situation as my father. I know it's stupid but I come here every now and then to offer rides." The good Samaritan brushes his thumbs against each other, finally making awkward eye contact with the drunk. 

Jack was stunned by the young man. His willingness to help people was something that Jack instantly envied. He was never willing to make sacrifices for others, it took enough strength to keep his own boat afloat in rough tides. 

Taking his little girl Angel for an example. Living with his ex girlfriend, Angel lived a normal lifestyle of a 6 year old without a father figure by her side. Jack didn't even want to know if she asked about him, it would just make him want to drink more. He worked his ass off to pay child support for a child he couldn't actually support in life. Too much of a mess to even figure out how to tie his own shoes. 

The greying male would work and pay for the main things. The rent for his stingy apartment slightly infested with cockroaches, child support and the rest of whatever he had left over went into bartenders palms. Or even cashier's metallic smelling hands in the liquor store when he felt like being alone.

"It's not stupid. It's not stupid at all." Jack croaked up to the slightly taller man smiling stupidly on the stool beside him. 

-.-.-

"It's stupid! It's so fucking stupid!" Rhys had a sudden burst of anger as he stormed past Jack sat dumbfounded and fragmented on the edge of the old bed. Holding the duffel bag tightly he threw it down on the other end of the bed. 

Drawers flew open as Rhys puffed and panted in an attempt to shovel every piece of clothing he had into the bag. If he missed anything now it wouldn't matter. This was the last straw, there was no way he was coming back after this. 

Rhys was fine with the first relapse or the stress about Jack's daughter. But the cheating, the second relapse and the lies were what tore the two men apart. Yet Jack still sat at the end of the mattress feeling nothing at all.

A black hole had formed inside of him. Rhys made him feel things he never believed he would ever feel. Maybe it was love? But don't people who love each other try to stick together? Jack and Rhys drifted apart more and more every time Jack fucked up. 

But Jack always fucked up and he just couldn't help it. 

If it wasn't drinking, it was playing around with women right underneath Rhys' nose. Were they even in a relationship? Probably, yes. Jack didn't know how to define their complex partnership. They shared a bed together at night, did that at least account for something? 

-.-.-

"It's not exactly a Palace. Are you sure you want to stay here?" Jack informed Rhys as he pushed open the squeaky door to the damp apartment. A man carrying two bags in his hands and a backpack slung over his shoulder smiled in the doorway. 

"Jack, it's fine. I just want to be with you, that's all." Rhys smiled perkily before walking forward and kissing his counterpart's cheek. 

Jack stared lifelessly towards the doorframe as his fingernails dug into the wood grain on the door. He let out a large sigh and shut the door. He was truly happy about Rhys moving in with him, it gave him the company that he needed. But what he was unsure of was Rhys' willingness. 

He could see it in the boy's gleaming eyes, happiness and sunshine. A dark cloud loomed over Jack, he didn't want the weather to shift over to his new partner. 

There was the first time that Rhys had really made Jack laugh. A time that he would never forget since it meant so much to him. Someone had actually made him laugh until his stomach hurt, Jack never laughed. Ever. 

"I don't want to flip it." Jack grumpily stated as he stiffly held the frying pan with Rhys beside him. 

"It's just a pancake Jack, com'on." Rhys prods his finger gently into Jack's rib. What was odd about this whole relationship was the timid worker bee not being afraid of the drunk boss. It was as if Rhys was just the drunkards carer. 

Jack stares at the sizzling breakfast inside the pan. He'd never made pancakes before but the young male was trying hard to keep him distracted. Doing something fun. They had been trying for months to try and find something that interested the liver damaged soul. Nothing seemed fun. 

But he owed Rhys everything, so doing little things to make him stay out of his cloud of darkness was the least he could do. Jack jerked his hand upwards, the pancake flew slowly into the air before dive bombing down towards the kitchen floor. Jack stared motionless at the dead pancake. 

Rhys began to chuckle at his partner stood beside him, slowly losing grip on the frying pan. 

"You killed the pancake." Rhys laughed, Jack turned his head to the noise and watched his roommate struggle for breath after every gasp of laughter. 

Seeing Rhys that happy made Jack smile, as if he'd actually achieved something worthwhile. He'd returned the favours for yet another smile from the boy. Jack's slight snigger eventually turned into a full fledged laugh. Both of the men began laughing like children inside the kitchen. 

It was only a matter of seconds before Rhys was on the countertop panting rapidly. Gasping for breath over lust and need for a man he loved so badly. Rhys had fallen hard and that's what made everything so much more difficult. 

-.-.-

"You can't just make someone love you. Not to turn your b-back on them. You could have saved me so much trouble, I've wasted so much on you Jack. Everything I've done was for nothing." Rhys huffed in between broken breaths, attempting to hold back his flooding water works. 

The sounds of the zip echoed through the dark one bedroom apartment. Jack knew he would hurt the kid, it was the inevitable. Jack hurt everyone he came in contact with. 

"You can't even begin to understand how much I tried with you Jack. How much I cared. How much I loved you." When Rhys put emphasis on the word relating to love Jack's heart hit his ribcage. What he'd done was so wrong. 

Not only did he start drinking again for the second time he also managed to have the audacity to sleep with women. Jack believed that Rhys deserved better, he deserved to have somebody that would care for him in a way that Jack could never do. By breaking his heart maybe Rhys would finally leave and understand how much of a fuck up Jack really was, leaving Rhys to move on with his life and stop thinking about the pathetic man. 

But as Rhys was done packing a part of Jack wanted to stand up and viciously rip the clothes from the bag. Making Rhys do the same task over and over so he could stay for just a little bit longer. Maybe Jack could make the man fall in love with him again within a few minutes instead of the burning hatred Rhys felt inside of him. But that was stupid, Jack shouldn't love Rhys. He didn't love him. 

Jack didn't feel love. Jack didn't feel anything at all. 

Or did he? Surely if Jack loved him he would be begging at his feet in an attempt to make Rhys stay. He wanted it to be like last time where Rhys forgave him instantly. When Jack mumbled the word 'sorry' and the younger male melted in his arms. It was just so easy. 

Yet Jack still sat at the end of the bed, his palms becoming progressively sweatier. What the hell would Jack do without him? He threads his fingers through his greasy hair as Rhys swings a rucksack over his shoulder and picks up two remaining bags. The exact same way he was when he moved in a few months ago. 

"I don't want to be a part of this anymore Jack. Ever again." As the words tumbled from Rhys' mouth his heart began to crack even more. When Rhys had found out about everything that Jack had done he wasn't surprised. Just disappointed. 

The person he had put so much effort in threw it all away and kicked Rhys to the side. That wasn't what he wanted anymore. Rhys had already decided he would move back in with Vaughn, the best friend who believed his pursuit with Jack was stupid in the first place. But Rhys denied, helping Jack would be the best thing that's happened to him. However this time Vaughn was right. 

Jack didn't respond to Rhys' words. He didn't even want to look up and see the disappointment in his counterparts watery eyes. Right now he just wanted to drown himself in alcohol and continue what got him in this mess in the first place. 

"Are you going to say anything?" Rhys raised an eyebrow. Regretting his departure. As much as Jack had enraged him a small part of himself just wanted Jack to apologise so everything could be normal again. But nothing was normal when it involved Jack. 

Jack flinched. The words 'I'm sorry I fuck everything up.' were on the tip of his tongue. But that would just make Rhys want to stay even more and he didn't deserve that luxury. 

"Well, goodbye Jack."

Rhys took a deep breath in, walking out of the bedroom with a broken heart and opening the front door. Jack had no energy to say no. The wooden door slammed shut, rattling the entire house and making a piercing beat in Jack's ears. 

Why did Jack ever allow the man to make so much of an impact on his life? His heart strained, there was no way in hell Jack loved this man. It was impossible. But a feeling deep inside of him kept wanting to break free, the urge to actually feel something. 

Maybe Jack really did love him? But it was too late to say that now. As many times as Rhys had told him before they went to sleep at night and the numbness Jack had felt as the words brush against him. The humid rooms temperature cools in rhythm with Jack's bruised heart. 

Right now he felt more pain than ever. An actual feeling. Something began to happen, something Jack had no control over. 

A single salty tear streamed down the side of his face. 

He did in fact love that man. But there was no way in hell he could ever redeem himself.


End file.
